Come Little Children
by Enenra R. Spice
Summary: Blackfrost AU, Songfic - Little Natasha was born in a village of sinners. Once every year, music drifts from the woods nearby, luring away children. On her tenth birthday, the melody calls upon her. Unable to resist the enchanting song, Natasha ventures into the woods, where she encounters the Lonely God. "A lone man sat beneath the pomegranate tree, playing an ebony flute."


"Come Little Children"

Song by Katethegreat19

Story by Enenra R. Spice

* * *

"Come little children,

I'll take thee away

Into a land of enchantment."

* * *

Once every year, the woods would come alive. Beautiful music, sweet and soft, would drift from the misty, lush environment and to the poverty-stricken village. A village of sinners.

Murderers, liars, deceivers... they had all escaped their pasts by banding together and removing themselves from the world. Long ago they had come across a soundless, lovely landscape. It would rain fairly often, allowing nature to flourish and thrive. The sky had never been anything but grey for as long as they had been there. There was plenty of food and water all around, and lush fields were perfect for farming. This is where they built their village of sinners. Near these fields were the woods. The woods were... magical. Wisps of fog would lie close to the ground like a dream, the grey skies visible through the treetops.

A year after the village was built, the leader of the village had lost his son and daughter to a wild animal from the woods.

At least, that was what he told the others.

In a drunken rage, the man had strangled innocence to death. When he had awoken, sober, the next morning, the man was horrified at what he had done. He wasn't able to handle the shame and guilt, unable to tell the others. And so... he hid the bodies within the very woods that his children held dear to their hearts, burying them beneath their favorite pomegranate tree in the very center of the forest. Carved into the trunk of the tree were the words "Beloved Children."

That was the day that the music had begun.

And when the music arrived, parents soon learned to fear for the lives of their children.

The music was hypnotic, yet only to children. It drifted out from the woods, filling the dull air with its sweet, beautiful notes. It drew them in like a fairytale, and once they entered the woods... they would never come back. The village of sinners was too afraid to send out a search party, each of them far too frightened.

Soon after the first appearance of the mysterious Siren's song, the head of the village had entered the very place of his fears.

He hung himself from the pomegranate tree, over the graves of his beloved children.

Beneath the previous carving in the tree trunk appeared the words "Beloved Father."

But the music still hadn't stopped.

* * *

"Come little children,

The time's come to play

Here in my garden of

Shadows."

* * *

Merely fourteen years later was when change finally bestowed itself upon the village of repent. A young girl of only age ten was celebrating her birthday alone, as per usual. The other children hadn't been too fond of her, thinking her strange because of her scarlet hair and her beauty that rivaled that of the sunset. She sat in the grass just past the village perimeters, playing a flute that a kind woman had given her as a gift.

"I'm sure you'll learn how to play in no time, little Natasha," the elderly woman had told her warmly as she handed the young girl the silver instrument. Natasha has beamed, grateful to be given something so wonderful, as well as to be remembered and cared for. She had always been a bit of an outcast, and enjoyed the woman's company.

As she sat there in the grass, she heard it.

The yearly song of the woods.

She froze, flute still held at ready to her lips. She listened to the enchanting notes. Without thinking, she began to play along, standing up and walking slowly towards the woods. The pull in her heart that tempted her to continue onward grew as she walked onward. Still playing her silver flute, oblivious as to how she knew each note in the melody, Natasha peered through the trees as noticed a clearing with a small stream running through off to the side, and yet there was no sound of running water. Fireflies were fluttering through the air even though it wasn't nighttime. In the center of the clearing was a pomegranate tree that was in full bloom, every fruit appearing flawless. They were red, like her odd hair color. She smiled against the flute as the lovely song continued on.

And the she noticed him. At first she wasn't sure he was real.

A lone man, whom she had never seen before, sat beneath the pomegranate tree, playing an ebony flute. He was otherworldly and graceful, long fingers playing each echoing note with a strange sort of crisp perfection. His skin was as pale as the full moon, jet black hair as dark as the night. He wore pure white clothing, somehow unsullied even as he sat on the damp soil. The mist seemed to curl and twist around him as he played, eyes shut peacefully.

She felt a pang of sadness when the final note of the melody rang out, clear and concise. Simultaneously, they lowered their instruments. His eyes opened, revealing captivating emerald orbs that were uncommon amongst the village of repent. Natasha stifled a gasp, though her eyes were wide like saucers.

The man slowly got to his bare feet, eyes never leaving her own. Soundlessly extending his hand, offering. Natasha's own trembling hand tentatively reached out to grasp his, and as soon as she touched the godly man's skin...

He became a monster.

* * *

"Follow sweet children

I'll show thee the way

Through all the pain

And the sorrows."

* * *

His already-cold skin became freezing, his skin now an unnatural sapphire, covered from head to toe in odd symbols and markings. The enchanting emeralds had turned to blazing rubies. This time, she couldn't hold back a gasp. Even so, she did not pull away shout like others might have, just as fascinated with this form as the other. The strange markings in his skin were odd, yes... but also artistic. The forest held it's breath as Natasha slowly brought her other hand -which still held the flute- to his tundra-like skin as well, placing it on top of their intertwined grasps.

"You do not fear...?" The man asked softly, accented voice deep yet not overly so. The little girl shook her head, mouth twisting up into the tiniest of smiles.

"No."

He smiled back genuinely, and his appearance slowly faded back to the form from before.

"May I ask your name, child?"

"Natasha Romanoff," she stated without hesitation. "What's your name?"

* * *

"Weep not poor children

For life is this way

Murdering beauty and passions."

* * *

"I am called Loki."

"Why do you play that song, Loki?" Natasha asked curiously.

"To save them." He looked away from her, gazing in the direction of the village. The girl was confused, and so she asked,

"To save who?"

"The children," Loki replied quietly. "The children must be saved. The adults and elders created the village of sinners. Children are innocence. Innocence cannot be raised in the village of sinners. The elder people have dangerous made dangerous enemies in their pasts... and the pasts of mortals always come back with a vengeance."

"I've heard stories about the founders of the village, but not all of them are mean," Natasha argued, thinking of the kind, nameless woman. Loki smiled regretfully when his eyes returned to hers.

"And who do you think is not a liar, killer, or deceiver?"

"The woman who gave me my flute," she answered. Loki seemed puzzled and concerned.

"Who?" He suddenly demanded. "What is the name of the woman, child?"

"I... I don't know..." Natasha was worried and confused. "I..." realization seemed to don on her; a sudden epiphany. "I haven't seen her before until today, but no one new has arrived in the village for as long as I can remember!" Loki paled further, which was pretty amazing since his skin was already ghostly

"She came back," he whispered in a sigh, closing his eyes for a moment.

"Who came back, Loki?" Natasha inquired, pleading with him. "Who is she."

"My mother, Frigga," he said softly. "I was banished to these woods just after the founding of your village, given the task of punishing them for the misdeeds of both their original leader and themselves. She was forbidden from visiting me directly..." Loki paused, deep in thought. "So she must have sent you in her place by gifting you with the flute." Natasha was lost, trying to wrap her mind around the unreal things taking place right in front of her.

"What are you?" she asked with genuine curiosity.

"I am a God. The God of Mischief and Lies. I am a Jotunn. I am a lie. I am Loki."

"And yet you tell the truth," she replied with a slight tilt of her head. Loki chuckled, surprised that he could enjoy the company of a human so much, especially that of a human child.

"Thank you."

"For what?" she asked, wondering what she had done to deserve his gratitude.

"Promise me something, alright?"

"A-Alright," she stuttered.

"Don't forget me. Mortal life spans are so very short. Do come and visit this Lonely God before you are gone with time."

"I... of course," Natasha said, giving a gap-toothed grin that only a child could have. Loki used his free hand to pluck the silver flute from her, quickly replacing it with his own ebony instrument. As soon as it touched her skin, she fell unconscious.

* * *

"Hush now dear children

It must be this way

Too weary of life and deceptions."

* * *

Natasha awoke there in the lush grass, just outside of the village's perimeters, rubbing her tired eyes. A tear trailed down her cheek. It had all been a dream. Just a cruelly realistic dream...

She must have fallen asleep while playing her flute. Absolutely convinced of this, Natasha stood, but began trembling a moment later.

Because in her hand was the ebony flute. She turned it over in her hands, examining the very instrument that had lured away the innocent children from the bloodied pasts of their superiors.

A sad smile touched her lips as she noticed a carving on the side.

"Beloved Child."

* * *

"Rest now my children

For soon we'll away

Into the calm and the quiet."

* * *

The years had flown by in a blur, just as the Lonely God had described they would. Natasha had never forgotten that day, and always kept the ebony flute in a case for safekeeping. She took said case with her wherever she went, now an adult herself. As soon as she was old enough, Natasha had fled from the village of repenting sinners, recalling Loki's talk of the dangers of staying there. Even so, she had never forgotten her promise. Now standing tall and beautiful at the age of twenty-three, Natasha had grown into a strong and independent woman.

She sat alone in a train compartment, watching the landscape as it flew by. It had been thirteen years since she'd last been to the village and those woods, and nostalgia was flooding through her.

A soft smile graced her lips later on as the train came to a stop. She picked up her single case of luggage and sighed deeply. After exiting the train, she still had to walk for another mile or so in order to reach the hidden village. She was afraid to see what had become of her birthplace, wondering if it even still existed.

A few hours later, the sun beginning to set, Natasha had arrived. She smiled when she saw the enchanting landscape. It was just as beautiful as she had smile widened when she saw that the same could be said to the forest, though now there was a sign nailed to a tree...

"The Lonely God's Woods"

And beneath the sign, someone had elegantly carved into the tree trunk:

"Little child, welcome home."

Natasha smiled, recognizing the handwriting as the same used on the midnight flute that she had with her. She glanced up the slight hill to where she remembered the village being. it was a moment of truth.

She had been prepared to find a pile of rubble or ash. She had been prepared to find a cemetery. Hell, she had been prepared to find nothing at all. What she wasn't prepared for was to see a village.

The shabby homes had been rebuilt. Still modest, yes, but much more efficient, There were children laughing and playing outside. She noticed a few adults talking. She recognized some of them from her childhood, though she had some difficulty recalling names. And yet, she hadn't seen a single one of the adults that Loki had said be was told to punish.

Natasha shook her head, filing that bit of information away for later. For now... she had a promise to fulfill. She tightened her grip on the case, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat. She began to walk towards the center of the woods, keeping an eye out for the silent stream and the ruby-red pomegranate tree.

* * *

"Come little children

I'll take thee away

Into a land of enchantment."

* * *

When she came upon the familiar clearing at last, her breath caught in her throat. Sitting beneath the pomegranate tree was a sapphire-skinned man, scorching red eyes instantly finding her, jet black hair slicked back just as she remembered.

It was him.

Loki.

He smiled, teeth a startling white in contrast to the icey blue. Natasha felt tears well in her eyes, and for once she just let them fall, uncaring. She couldn't hold back the smile tugging at her mouth.

"Little child," he said softly, changing back into his more humanoid form as he stood up. He walked forwards, only stopping when he was directly in front of her. He pulled her into an embrace. "Welcome home"

"I'd never forget my truthful God of Lies."

Loki chuckled quietly before claiming her lips with his own.

* * *

"Come little children

The time's come to play

Here in my garden of

Shadows."

* * *

_The end_.


End file.
